


Heartache

by Suli



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Lee Chan | Dino, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lee Chan | Dino-centric, M/M, Other, Sexual Harassment, Toxic Friendships, because that ship is cute uwu, some slight chanhoon at the end, the sexual harassment isn't too bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suli/pseuds/Suli
Summary: In the end, when you’ve only felt loneliness, finally finding happiness doesn't seem real.





	Heartache

**Author's Note:**

> alrighty so i haven't forgotten about OWNED, i'm just in a bad writer's block so i thought starting this as a project would kind of help me get out of that slump.
> 
> before you read this, some disclaimers:  
> 1) i wrote this in a day so it's probably bad and i didn't really proofread it  
> 2) this is based on things that happened to me growing up. in other words, this is a catharsis piece as well as something to get out of writer's bock. i'll explain more in the end notes, but for now, please know that if you've been through toxic/abusive friendships, read this with caution.
> 
> i hope you enjoy this badly written, glorified vent!

Chan had a big heart. He saw the beauty in everything, the sunshine that radiated from the best in people. All he ever wanted in life was to see those around him live out their lives in happiness; an aspiration he had as long as he could remember. There was a kindness in his smile, a gentle wisdom.

Chan had a big heart, but sometimes it was just too big.

Too big for the selfishness, greed, and cruelty that dominated the world. Too big to see the people that wanted to use him. Too big to avoid soul-crushing hurt and heartache that left him reeling from a crippling sense of loneliness.

But he never learned.

 

Chan could never remember his friends from before third grade. He knew he must have had some, old cards and gifts that would pop up every now and again from the depths of his old backpacks were proof of that. But their faces and their names escaped him. Try as he might, he could never bring them to the surface of his consciousness.

His third-grade friends, however, he remembered them all too well

The two boys were Chan’s best friends, the two people with whom he planned grand adventures only conceivable in the minds of children. The two people who he had comforted him when he failed that one math test. The two people who he’d spend every possible millisecond with.

It was perfect.

At least for a month.

 

Then the fights started. The two boys would be at each other’s throats almost every day, with Chan caught in the middle. He tried desperately to be a mediator, but that was an impossible feat if he wanted to avoid taking sides. Against his will, he’d be dragged into whatever argument they’d decided to start up that day, required to try and navigate through stormy waters until lunch was over and the fight was forced to a close.

He didn’t see it until it was too late. He didn’t see the mischievous smiles the two would share behind his back, he didn’t see the way the two would move from attacking each other to ganging up on him, making him feel so small and scared. He didn’t see the way their apologies and affections slowly became emptier and emptier, more and more forged.

After all, his eyes only saw the good in people.

 

Eventually, Chan saw it all. He saw it when one of the two would write a nasty note and threaten to wrongly accuse him of writing it unless he did something that would only fuel their arguments. He saw it when the other would come saying that his parents were starting to hate him, only for his mom to greet him as warmly and genuinely as ever. He saw it when he realized the reason he violently threw up every morning was from pure, unadulterated fear.

He was only eight years old. He couldn’t understand the difference between teasing and bullying, between a true friendship and a toxic one. He knew that something was wrong but didn’t know what or why. Without a justification, Chan found himself with no choice but to endure.

Eventually, it became normal.

 

In fifth grade, Chan moved to a different school, his old one proving to be too stressful of an environment. Despite his nervousness, he was happy. Happy to be leaving those old friends behind cleanly and without confrontation, excited for the prospect of a new beginning. Having moved a month into the school year, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to connect well with the other kids. Those worries faded away as smiling faces greeted him, so eager to get to know him and make sure he acclimated well.

Because of his kind nature, it was easy for Chan to befriend everyone. His circle of close friends was small, but he held them close to his heart in a way that was strange for a mere 10-year-old. There was no hostility or fear between him and the other students. It was simple, and Chan cherished that after a painful two years of incessant fights and arguments.

And yet, there was a small, lingering thorn embedded in Chan’s heart. It was small enough that he could ignore it when he was at school or doing homework, but at night, when it was deadly silent, he would feel it. He would feel his heart begin hammering against his ribs, his body beginning to curl up on himself as he remembered the events of the day. Even if nothing in particular happened, even if it was an entirely regular, boring day, the same questions plagued his mind.

 

_‘Did I do something wrong?’_

_‘Did I annoy them with that question?’_

_‘Am I too much?’_

 

Only 10 years old, the questions never held much power, lasting a few seconds before fading away, allowing Chan to get some rest. But they were always there, lying dormant in the back of his mind until they found the perfect opportunity to pounce.

 

Chan’s life moved on ordinarily and pleasantly. He and his friends grew together. He continued to make new friends and had to say goodbye to others as they moved away. But he was happy. Despite the small feeling of emptiness in his chest, he was happy.

In eighth grade, he made friends with a girl in his school’s choir. The had the same taste in music and took the same bus route, so they naturally grew close. Every lunch break, they would run to the music room where they would play their favorite songs as loud as they were allowed and would sing their hearts out.

This girl was kind, almost as kind as him. She was a beautiful artist, often showing him her various art projects. When he was stressed, she would draw random patterns on his hands, distracting him away from his thoughts. When she’d find an old bracelet that she’d think Chan would like, she’d give it to him, despite his protests.

 

That was the year that Chan learned once again that even those who appeared kind could have ugliness hidden in their hearts.

 

When Chan would come to her complaining about a sleepless night, she would explode at him, saying that he didn’t know what a sleepless night was, going on to rant and rave about her constantly interrupted sleep. Eventually, Chan learned to hold his tongue, no matter how badly he needed to get something off his chest. In his head, if she could alleviate some of her stress and he could help her, it was worth it.

When Chan would run to her, excited to show off a good grade or share some good news, she would shoot him down. “That’s good,” she’d say, “But nothing compared to this.” Eventually, he learned that nothing he did was worth feeling pride over, that it was all too average to waste breath over.

When Chan needed help with schoolwork and gave up figuring it out alone, she was often his first choice to go to. After all, she was smart and was good at explaining difficult concepts. For months, she’d happily helped him. But then, she started getting annoyed.

“Again Chan?” she’d sigh exasperatedly. “God, aren’t you _supposed_ to be the smartest in the class.”

 

Chan felt a horrible constricting feeling in his chest at those words, the same feeling that plagued him in third grade. He was again stuck in the middle of a friendship that he used to love but was now eating away at him. He tried to talk to her about it, but she immediately got defensive, claiming that she was only human. Standing up for himself, Chan stuck his ground, but the girl just looked _so_ sad that he couldn’t stay upset with her for more than a day.

In his head, it didn’t matter how upset he was, making her upset was out of the question.

 

He was ashamed to admit it, but he was happy to watch her move schools at the end of eighth grade. But he noticed that he had drifted far from his previous friendships. It should have been easy to grow closer once again, but something stopped him, like a pristine glass wall. The wall made him feel so, so lonely. He was never alone, and almost always had people to spend his break times with, but a certain feeling polluted his mind and stabbed at his heart.

In future years he would come to recognize that feeling. The desire to get close to someone, but the fear of messing it all up.

 

Chan’s loneliness came to a climax at the end of the tenth grade. In a moment of impulsiveness, he confided in an acquaintance, venting out how lonely, unsatisfied, and upset he seemed to constantly suffer. The boy simply smiled warmly at him, pulling him gently into a hug, telling him that if he ever wanted to talk to someone, he was always available.

Chan felt so, so happy at those words. For the first time, he felt understood. He didn’t feel alone. Though the boy was in the grade below him, he hung around him more and more, cherishing the comfort he always provided. The connection between them happened quickly, even for Chan. It was odd that he gave this boy his trust so easily, but there was something about him; a warmth and honesty that he didn’t even know he needed so desperately. This boy listened to him like he was truly absorbing his words rather than simply nodding and moving to a different topic.

He was a friend Chan needed for so long.

 

You already know how this ends, don’t you?

 

The two had an opportunity to go on an abroad school trip. Being adventurous, young teenagers, they jumped at the idea, begging their parents to let them go. They spent every minute together, from the airport to the plane to the bus to the hotel to the various parks and malls and centers that were part of the itinerary. The trip was perfect, Chan laughing more than he had in so, so long.

It was on the last two days of the trip that things fell apart.

“I’m beat,” sighed Chan with a chuckle as he all but collapsed onto the bed on his side of the hotel room. It was the toughest day of the trip, the physical and mental labor leaving him a drained mess.

“Come on, it wasn’t _that_ bad,” teased the boy.

Chan didn’t respond, curling around his pillow, the soft tendrils of drowsiness starting to pull him deeper into the river of sleep.

 

“Hey,” called the boy softly, Chan humming in response, “Sleep with me tonight.”

Chan looked up sharply, a faint pink dusting his cheeks as he struggled to respond. He stammered, stumbling over his words, mind unable to process the situation he found himself in.

“Don’t feel that way for guys?” asked the boy, a mischievous smirk on his face. He was almost enjoying this, the smile making Chan’s stomach knot around itself.

“I don’t feel that way for anyone,” Chan managed to mumble out, embarrassedly playing with the duvet cover.

“Huh, you really are a weird one Chan,” replied the boy, the words feeling inexplicably like a bullet right in the chest. “In any case, that’s not what I meant, goof. I wanted to cuddle with you, that’s all.”

 

Still hurting from the boy’s earlier statement, Chan didn’t try to protest. He wordlessly slid into the boy’s bed, letting him wrap his arms dangerously low on his waist, no matter how uncomfortable it made him.

“So you don’t like guys or girls?” The boy brought the topic up again, pulling Chan’s body even more flush to his. All Chan hoped is that he couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.

“Not in that way,” replied Chan curtly.

“Don’t you think you should see a doctor about that? It’s not normal.”

_Stab._

“I-I think I’m fine.”

The boy sighed, bringing his hands even lower down Chan’s back, whispering right into his ear, “Shame, you’re a pretty boy. Maybe I can change your mind.”

 

All Chan was thinking was that he needed to get out. He needed to get as far away from the person who he thought was his friend as possible. But his body was frozen. So he just laid there and endured it. Endured the feeling of hands tight on his lower back, the feeling of breath on his ear, the feeling of legs trying to intertwine with his.

He didn’t want this, he never wanted any of this.

But the other boy, he was hungry for it.

 

At two in the morning, Chan was able to untangle himself from the cage of limbs and return to his own bed. He curled in on himself, bringing his knees to his chin.

 _‘I’m so stupid,’_ he thought to himself. He beat himself up over it all. Over-trusting someone with so much only to find out all he wanted was to use him, to find out he never cared about him as much as he thought. But most of all, he beat himself up not realizing it was too good to be true sooner, for not seeing through the act.

_‘This keeps happening and I never learn. I’m so fucking stupid.’_

‘ _I just want a friend.’_

 

Chan spent the rest of his school career surrounded by classmates who liked him but never filled the burning emptiness he felt consuming his entire being. He saw the people around him spending time together even outside of school, and all he could wonder was _how_. He knew how to make friends, but how did they get so close? How did they maintain their friendships for years, learning and growing together all while respecting each other’s boundaries? It seemed simple, but Chan knew it was anything but.

He was lonely. So lonely he would lay awake at night, the gaping void in his chest throbbing, demanding attention.

 

His classmates noticed the change, but not in the way you’d think. They noticed how Chan would overreact to any act of genuine kindness towards him, as though he didn’t know they were normal in friendships.

Truth was, he didn’t know that. Kindness, he had experienced, but always at a price. True, _genuine_ kindness was something alien; he was just so used to being treated like he was worthless or like he was just a passing fad.

 

Fast forward a couple months.

 

Finals were over, graduation had passed, Chan was accepted into his top choice university. Those things brought Chan happiness but were nothing compared to the seemingly insignificant event that changed his days forever and ever.

First came two boys, both a year older than him. He met them during a visit to his university. They showed him around excitedly, later insisting they buy him something to eat or drink.

“Please, Chan!” pouted Seungkwan. “Just a cup of coffee!”

“It’s okay, you guys have done so much already,” replied Chan, a shy smile gracing his lips as he fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt.

“If the only reason you’re hesitating is that you’re worried about us, then that’s the only reason I won’t accept,” insisted Hansol. “We’re your hyungs! Let us treat you, please?”

 

Chan relented. The two bought him a cup of coffee, playfully glaring at him when he tried to insist to pay. They talked about how Chan felt about starting university, what the workloads were like, the idiotic things that happened in the university. It was easy, simple and easy.

“When are you moving into the dorms?” asked Seungkwan.

“Mmm,” hummed Chan, “In about three weeks.”

“Can we exchange numbers? Us and a few friends can help you move in, only if you want that, of course.”

“Oh,” Chan was surprised by the kind offer, and slightly nervous. “You really don’t have to. You guys’ll probably be busy.”

“Don’t worry about us Chan,” said Hansol softly. “It’ll be fun anyway.”

 

So they exchanged numbers. And so when the three weeks were up and Chan found himself back on the university campus, he was taken aback.

“This is a _few_ friends?” Chan asked Seungkwan and Hansol, incredulous at the sight before him.

Hansol and Seungkwan had brought along 10 friends. _Ten other friends_ , all of whom smiled at Chan and warmly introduced themselves.

 

At that moment, if you were to ask Chan if he thought he’d become close with all of them, he would’ve laughed at you.

“I can’t even manage to find one good friend,” he would say, “You think I can make 12?”

But he’d be wrong.

 

Hansol and Seungkwan quickly became his best friends. He didn’t know how or when it happened, but when he started thinking about it, he realized how long he’d known them, and how they’d been _nothing_ like the other close ‘friends’ in his life. Bonding with Soonyoung happened quickly. Once the older boy found out he liked dancing, the two became almost inseparable. They’d spend hours together in the university’s practice room, Soonyoung teaching Chan new styles and helping him make his movements sharper and more precise. Throughout the process, he found himself getting closer to Junhui and Minghao, both of whom both taught him and learned from him. The couple would often invite Chan out to try a new Chinese restaurant, making him laugh as they critiqued the food in the most over-the-top ways.

Becoming friends with Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Jisoo happened despite Chan’s doubts. The age difference meant next to nothing when the three would join Chan in lovingly teasing the others, but it was felt when Chan was stressed or sick. Seungcheol would bring him whatever medicine he needed, making absolute sure he was taking it properly. Jisoo would bring him food that would both strengthen his body as well as cheer him up. Jeonghan would listen to Chan fully whenever he just needed to talk, offering advice when he had some, and being honest when he didn’t quite know what to do. The three were always there; something Chan adored.

Seokmin was Chan’s partner in adventures. Once the two wanted to try something, there was nothing that could stop them. Rock-climbing, painting, photography, model building, hiking, cycling; if they wanted to try it, they’d try it together, laughing and smiling and feeling fulfilled no matter the outcome.

Mingyu hovered over Chan at first, picking up on how nervous he always was and wanting to ensure nothing would make him uncomfortable. But as Chan became more comfortable with the group, the two started bonding over the strangest thing: complaining about the rest of the group. Of course, it was all loving teasing, none of it too serious, but Chan found it was nice to be that honest with someone without fearing punishment.

Chan was never much of a reader, and yet he bonded with Wonwoo over a book he had recommended to him. He had agreed to read it out of courtesy but found that he loved it. His heart swelled when Wonwoo later told him that he personally didn’t like the book that much, but had a feeling Chan might. It was a small gesture, but to Chan, it felt like someone had given him the world.

And finally, Jihoon, the boy who had initially intimidated Chan. Jihoon was the one who unearthed Chan’s passion for singing and rapping, something he had buried away after his eighth-grade experience. At least three nights a week, Chan was in the studio with Jihoon, simply watching as he produced beautiful melodies and energetic beats. Occasionally, Chan would suggest lyrics, which Jihoon would read sincerely, sometimes giving criticism, but often praising Chan as he passionately dug deeper into the lyrics.

 

Chan was happy. Really, really happy.

He felt like he finally got what he’d been dreaming about for years. He had friends, real ones. Friends who love and support him and _genuinely_ care about him. Friends who made his heart swell and made him smile fondly whenever he thought about them. It was exactly what his daydreams were.

 

But of course, it all came with fear. A fear of losing it all. It was a fear so strong it made him cry so hard because it really shook him to his core. In the end, when you’ve only felt loneliness, finally finding happiness leads to all kinds of invasive thoughts.

 

_What if I lose it?_

_What if it’s only temporary?_

 

A part of Chan was waiting, waiting for the moment when the dream crashes around him. He almost felt like what he had found was simply a mirror reflecting back what he always wanted to see, distracting him from reality.

 

He confided this in Jihoon, who had found him one night in the studio with fresh tear tracks staining his cheeks. He confided everything in him, the whole story from beginning to end.

“What if I become like them hyung? I’ve only known _that_ all my life. What if I hurt you?”

“Channie,” started Jihoon in a soft voice, gently playing with Chan’s fingers. “We’ve known you for months now and you’ve never hurt anyone. We can tell you think a thousand times before you say or do anything. And if you _do_ end up doing something that hurts bothers anyone, we’ll talk about it. That’s what friends do.”

Chan nodded, forcing the words into his heart and forcing the poisonous thoughts out of his head as best he could.

“And Chan, this is reality. It _is_ real life, not a daydream. The people around you aren’t made up in your head anymore, they’re real. The time we spend with you is real time, the laughs we share with you are real laughs, me touching your hand right now is real contact. We’re not going anywhere, not without you.”

 

Jihoon walked Chan home, keeping a protective arm around his shoulders. Chan leaned into the contact as best he could, smiling as he remembered Jihoon’s words.

It would take time. Lots of time. It would take many more tears, breakdowns, and fears until Chan internalized those words. But somehow, he knew he would internalize them someday.

Because Chan had everything he ever wanted.

He had 12 people to call his family.

 

He was happy.

And that much, he _knew_ was real.

**Author's Note:**

> i told you this'd suck
> 
> as i said in the beginning notes, this is based on my own experiences growing up. Chan in this fic is basically me. the unnamed 'friends' who were awful to Chan, those are all people i met at those points of my life (just some of them genderbent). i wrote this cuz i've been thinking a lot about how those people affected me, and wanted to actually write it out somehow. there are obviously differences between the fic and my actual life: i'm not in uni yet (i graduate in a couple of weeks) and i don't have seventeen as my friends (lol). but things have still gotten better. i have friends online whom i love with all my heart, and who have helped me so much over the past couple of weeks.
> 
> the point i'm getting at is, things get better. if you've been in toxic friendships and are scared that you'll never make friends again, or if you're feeling lonely, i promise you, things will get better.  
> if things got better for me, i'm 100% sure they'll get better for you.
> 
> it felt kinda good to write this hehe
> 
> i hope you all have a wonderful day/night and i love you so much!


End file.
